What If The Storm Ends
by A Whisper Of Grace
Summary: Emma struggles with her thoughts on the drive back to Storybrooke. Based off new spoilers for 3B.


**AN: Based off spoilers that Henry's memories won't be returned to him straight away.**

_What if the storm ends_

_And leaves us nothing_

_Except a memory_

_A distant echo_

Refusing to let her eyes wander from the road in front of her, Emma tried to block out the sound of conversation and focus purely on the song coming from the old radio in her Bug. The clarity wasn't as good as it would have once been, especially out here in the middle of nowhere, but she made herself concentrate on the music, repeating the lyrics in her head, forcing out everything else.

The sound of the person beside her talking to the kid in the backseat kept leaking through, though, and she found herself too easily getting lost in the lilting accent, the low timbre of the voice belonging to the man in the passenger seat, his easy laughter as he became acquainted with her son.

She'd missed him. She hadn't even known him, hadn't remembered a single thing about her past life, her _real_ life, but somehow he'd still been in her dreams, this mysterious stranger. Always in leather, parts of him usually unclear, but his eyes had always been vivid, too bright, too knowing, impossibly familiar.

Hook had come for her, _again._ Even knowing that he'd be interrupting her imaginary life, knowing that she'd be blissfully, ignorantly happy, he'd come to bring her back, because he knew that she wouldn't have wanted to stay in that false world with her fake, stupidly happy memories.

She blinked quickly, refusing to even consider the idea of crying right now.

He'd done the right thing, of course he had. Her family was in trouble, the details vague but the reality dire, and there was nothing to consider, really. She was the Saviour, and was right on her way to do some saving because yep, that was her job. She'd had her year-long vacation, and now it was back to work.

_That's unfair._ She knew she was being stupid about it, and that wasn't the reason why she was upset. No, angry. Somewhere in between. With her memories back, she distinctly felt the hole in her heart where her family belonged, and the steadily growing fear for them, especially not entirely knowing exactly what danger they were in.

No, the thing that was bothering her was what she was trying to desperately to block out - the delighted tone of Henry's voice as he asked the pirate all kinds of things about Storybrooke, which Hook was trying his damnedest to make up or to avoid. He'd spent a few months in their world while he'd searched for them, and so had managed to figure out enough to carry the conversation somewhat, but there was only so much that he could bluff.

And even though her memories had returned to her like a punch in the gut when she'd tossed back the potion he'd given her, Henry was still wonderfully oblivious.

As far as he knew, Hook was a friend of a friend, who'd asked them to come and visit in Storybrooke. Except Hook was actually Killian, because how did you explain to a twelve year old boy that Captain Hook was real, and they were actually going to save a whole bunch of fairy tale characters from a green witch?

Hook hadn't known what she'd meant when she'd incredulously asked about the Wicked Witch of the West, and she wasn't entirely sure how _she'd_ cope with that if it worked out to be right.

Henry was sitting in the middle backseat, and whenever she glanced in the mirror she could see him perched on the edge, a grin spread across his face as he questioned Hook. Hook tried to deflect as much as possible, asking about his life in New York, what was school like, tell him about his friends, and as much as Emma wanted to hold onto the happiness in his voice as he spoke about his perfect life, she couldn't listen to the words, couldn't deal with knowing that none of it was real.

Because for a whole year, they'd been happy together. Not only had they had an easy, peaceful life for a while, but they'd had the memories of easy, peaceful years before that, always together, always happy.

Both versions of her life battled in her head, and she wanted so badly to linger on the life where _she hadn't given him up._

And right now, Henry didn't know any better. He still thought of her as the person who had taught him to walk, how to tie his shoelaces, how to make perfect hot chocolate. She was still the person who'd been there on his first day of school, had dealt with his first bully, had taken him to his first soccer game.

She was still his mother.

Trying to swallow down the lump in her throat, she made herself think of Regina. It was breaking her heart to have the memories of the life that she could have had stuck in her head, but she couldn't imagine how Regina had managed to cope for the last year, separated from her son. Or what she'd think when they arrived in Storybrooke and Henry wouldn't even recognize her...

'We've only lived in New York for about a year,' Henry was telling Hook, the words bleeding through despite her efforts to block them out. 'The house before was nice, though. We had a bigger backyard, and Mum bought me a bike. Maybe I can have another one if we stay in Storybrooke for a while?' he asked a little louder, clearly trying for her attention.

But she couldn't see past her foggy memories of their life together. Would it be the same for him when he got his memories back? Would he hate her all the more for giving him away, now that he'd seen the life they could have had? Or maybe he wouldn't care, maybe being with Regina was enough for him. Maybe he hadn't needed her...

The road was becoming more and more blurry, and she swiped the heel of her hand across her eye in the hopes of clearing her vision. Having little success, she returned her hand to the wheel and gripped it tightly, taking a deep breath and hating how unsteady it was.

It took her a minute to realize that the only sound in the car now was the low hum of the radio. 'Swan?' Hook's voice was deep and serious, and when his large hand settled carefully on her arm it was too warm, too comforting, too much. His hand tightened on her slightly and she realized that she was shaking.

'I -' She cut herself off when the word came out as a croak and her lips turned downward severely, _needing_ them to stop trembling, needing to get herself together. Gritting her teeth together, she swerved to the side, breaking quickly and ignoring Hook's startled grunt at the sudden movement. 'I just need a minute. To stretch my legs,' she added quickly, forcing the words out because she couldn't let Henry know that something was wrong. Because he cared too much, because he loved her too much since he didn't know what she'd done to him. She fumbled with her seatbelt. 'I've been driving a long time, and I just need to stretch my legs.' Finally unbuckling the belt, she threw the door open and fled the car, leaving the keys in the ignition and slamming the door a little too loudly behind her.

She stumbled a few steps away from the car, no longer able to hold back the maelstrom of emotion swirling in her chest, and hot, angry tears started to pour down her cheeks. She didn't bother to wipe them away, knowing that it would be useless for a few minutes at least, but instead threaded her fingers through her hair, gripping and pulling as though she could ease her pain by pulling it out. Her breaths were coming in gasps, too frequently, her head starting to swim, and she knew that this would quickly turn into a panic attack if she didn't get herself under control soon.

A tentative hand landed on her back and she spun around, knocking Hook's arm away. 'Don't.' It was so hard to ignore the wounded look on his face but she managed to turn away from him, take a step or two to put some distance between them.

'Swan?'

She took another step then lowered herself to squat in the grass, wrapping an arm around her knees and dropping the other hand to the ground to steady herself. She wanted to crawl into a ball on the floor, sob away her pain, hide from all the pain that was still to come.

_God, how would he look at her?_

'Emma!'

No. She wanted to fight, she wanted to be angry. Pushing herself to her feet, she spun around with the intention of stalking back to Hook, and stumbled slightly when she found him right in front of her. His face softened slightly when he saw hers but she didn't want to deal with that. Before he could do anything about it, she put both of her hands on his chest and _pushed_, the dark part of her enjoying the surprised sound he made.

'What, Hook? What do you want? Do you want me to get it together?' She pushed him again, trying to push away the recurring stabbing pain in her stomach that felt like it would never go away. 'Do you want me to hurry up and get us to Storybrooke so that I can save the day again? Do you want me to forget about Henry's performance in the school band that I'm supposed to go to next week, or the friends that I'm supposed to be having drinks with tomorrow night? Do you want me to forget about the job that I have, the neighbours that always bring Henry pie?'

He tried to grab her wrists but he wasn't as adept with his fake hand as he was with his hook, and she knocked his arms away, punching him this time in the chest. She knew that she was making a scene, that anyone who was driving past would probably think she was crazy but hell, _her whole life was fucking crazy._ 'How about all of the friends Henry has?' she demanded, punching him again, harder this time. 'The girl at school that he has a crush on that I'm not supposed to know about? Should I forget about them, too? Do you want me to forget about all of that?'

His arm came around her before she could react and he pulled her right in close to him, trapping her against him with his arms. Still, she tried to fight him, but now that he had a grip on her, his superior strength had him at the advantage. 'Let me go!' she growled, the words muffled against his vest.

Hook's arms just tightened around her, now almost painful. 'All I want, Emma,' he said, and his voice wasn't angry but soothing, the bastard, 'is for you to talk to me. If you want to.' And he lowered his head to press his cheek against the top of her hair, _hugging_ her, on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere while she was trying to take her self-loathing out on him.

Slowly, she let the tension flow out of her, but the only thing that that left behind was the stabbing, twisting knife inside her. She let go, hating herself for it all the while, crying against his chest while he simply held her, his body hard and _real_ against hers, his voice soft as he whispered things that she couldn't really hear, but the sound of his voice slowly relaxed her.

Eventually she had some form of control of herself again, and she withdrew her fingers from the deathlike grip that they'd had on his jacket, pulling away. He looked like he was going to resist, but after a moment he let his arms drop. Swallowing her embarrassment at her breakdown, she swiped her hands across her face, rubbing at the skin underneath her eyes and hoping against hope that her mascara hadn't run too badly. She'd already made enough of a show for Henry, if he was watching them, and she certainly didn't know how to apologize to Hook.

'What's he going to think of me?' she managed after a few minutes, not able to bring herself to look him in the eye.

He was silent at first, then cleared his throat. 'Henry?'

She nodded slowly. 'I know that we need to get his memories back as soon as possible. But when he does... I don't even know what to do. Do I just let him believe what he does until we figure it out? Or do I try and make him believe like he did to me?' She took a shuddering breath, trying to calm herself down, but when she spoke again her voice broke. 'Because to do that I need to start with how I gave him up as a baby, and he's going to think that I didn't love him enough, and now that he knows what we could have had... he's going to hate me...'

There was a hand on her face, cupping her cheek and guiding her gently to look up, and when she did she found Hook standing right in front of her, looking down at her with nothing but sincerity. 'Emma,' he said, imploring her with just the use of her name. 'We'll figure it out together, when we get home.' _Home. _'And he's not going to hate you.'

'But what if he does?' she whispered, searching his eyes for some kind of comfort.

He smiled sadly at her. 'He won't. He already knows why you let somebody else raise him. To give him his best chance.'

The familiar words settled over her slowly and she nodded reluctantly. Pulling his hand from her cheek, she squeezed it and then twined her fingers through his, keeping her eyes locked on his. 'You've been speaking to my mother, haven't you?' she said weakly, trying stupidly for a joke.

He relaxed at her attempt, his smile becoming a little more encouraging. 'Perhaps. She misses you. They all do. Even Regina,' he said, like he didn't believe his own words.

She certainly had a hard time believing it, but she knew things had changed while they'd been in Neverland, and that things would be very different again once they were all reunited. 'Do you think it'll take her long to figure out how to get Henry's memories back?' she asked, dreading and needing the answer.

'I couldn't tell you, love,' he said sadly. 'And we do need to return with haste, but I don't see the harm in keeping your lad's spirits up in the meantime, do you?'

Sighing, Emma wiped at her face with her free hand once more before turning back to the car. They walked back towards it slowly, and she drew what comfort she could from the firm grip of the man who'd come back for her, only dropping his hand when she had to move around to the other side of the car.

Still, she hesitated before she opened the door. 'Thank you,' she said quietly over the roof, and he didn't need to ask her what for, just nodded and ducked into the passenger seat.

Henry was looking at her strangely when she slid into her own seat, checking the keys in the ignition out of habit even though the car was still running. 'Are you okay?' he asked uncertainly.

Twisting in her seat, she smiled at him, the expression the closest thing to genuine that she'd been able to manage since she'd drank the potion. 'I'll be fine,' she told him, and reached out to ruffle his hair. 'I love you, kid.'

Normally he would have pushed her away in annoyance, but he didn't protest and she loved him impossibly more for his concern for her. 'I love you too, Mum.'

And she knew that they'd be all right. That they'd defeat whoever this bitch was that was terrorizing her loved ones, hopefully sort out where she stood with her family and Regina, and finally figure out what she was going to do about the pirate beside her who was somehow always there when she needed him.

Giving one last smile to Henry, she turned the same look to Hook for a few seconds before pulling back out onto the road, taking strength from the both of them, and the knowledge that they'd both always be there for her.

_One thing at a time._

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